


Write Yourself

by DeathIsOverrated



Category: Night at the Museum (2006 2009)
Genre: Country & Western, Lots of Angst, M/M, Octavius is frustrated, Oh and Jedediah is fictional, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Writer AU, first fic for this, yaaay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-11 08:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3320681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathIsOverrated/pseuds/DeathIsOverrated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavius is a struggling author who magically gets sucked into his one successful book. Unfortunately, he finds himself falling for his protagonist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first work for the natm fandom. I come from a much larger fandom *cough* Supernatural *cough* and was greatly in need of more fanfiction of these two. So I decided to try my hand!

Octavius stared at the blank screen in front of him, wishing the words would just pop up for him. What in hell had possessed him to become an author? And not just an author; it could never be that simple. No, he had to write Western novels. Like there was anything that Louis L'amour hadn't already done.

 

Sighing, he put his head in his hands, thoughts churning in his mind. Plots for his story, his father's booming voice, his editor's request for more. You're nothing but a failure. You can't do this. Freak. What's going on? shutupshutupshutup. God I need a drink. You're such a fucking freak. Useless moron. Can't do this what were you thinking Octavius loser I need a drink failurefreakfuckuploserdumbasscan'teventhinkshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupSHUTUPSHUTUP SHUT THE HELL UP!!!

 

Growling, Octavius shoved himself away from the desk, opting instead to stalk around the small study. He paused at the desk again, glancing around the computer at the neat stacks of papers and the small book on the corner. He picked it up gingerly, turning it to look at the front cover. His eyes roamed over the title, the cheap paper-back illustrations, down to the name at the bottom. Augustus Roman. Real original name you thought up, there, Octavius scoffed to himself, throwing the novel down.

 

Honestly he wasn't even sure how his book had even sold. Nobody read romanticized cowboy drivel anymore. There wasn't even a love interest in the book. Nevertheless, it sold enough to warrant a second. The only problem was, he hadn't written the book for a follow up. It was a simple one-off about a young rancher named Jedediah who was forced to take over his drunken father's ranch when his father died. But in the dark, twisted tunnels of Octavius's mind, he had decided to make Jedediah's father a man with many debts, the collectors of which come to Jed. There was a little more than that, but it basically just ended with Jed running the ranch.

 

Octavius sighed again, thinking of his fictional cowboy. Jedediah had shaggy, dirty blonde hair, normally hidden underneath a dusty black hat. His eyes were the shade of blue that could be seen around a bolt of lightning. He had an adventurous and playful attitude, and his perfect smile spoke of the mischief he loved to get into when given the chance. He was loyal, defending his friends to his last and sacrificing whatever was needed. In short, he was the perfect man. He was fictional, of course, but what man didn't have his fantasies.

 

The author sat down once more, calmed from his earlier fit. He knew what he had to do for the second book. The one thing that wasn't in the first one. Jedediah was going to have a love interest. A woman, of course; nobody wanted to read about gay cowboys. Besides, that was done once. But who is this woman? Octavius wondered to himself. Pulling a scrap of paper toward him, he began to jot down ideas for her and her backstory. It was a writing quirk of his; he liked to know everything about his characters before he created them.

 

The only thing was, this woman was a complete mystery to Octavius. Whenever he tried to think of her name, her looks, her family, where she came from, all he got was a blank. He tried concentrating harder, willing a picture of this woman into his mind; still nothing came forward. Dammit. This was going to be harder than he thought. He set his pen down, alternating between looking at a blank paper and a blank screen. Both seemed to be reflecting his mind right now. Blank.

 

Finally admitting defeat, Octavius stood from the desk, wandering from the study to his bedroom. Maybe if he got some sleep he would be able to write more in the morning. His bed was large and inviting; Octavius collapsed on it, still fully clothed, resigned to his fate of writer's block. His mind drifted wearily, fading black with sleep as his eyes closed heavily.

 

************************************************************************

 

There was a faint murmur of noise around him, a dull heat seeping through his clothes. Strange voices surrounded him, probably being what pulled him from sleep. He opened his eyes only to immediately squint them against the bright sunlight. A figure moved over him, blocking the sun, but Octavius couldn't make out his face.

 

"Who is he?" "Where d'ya reckon he came from?" "Why is he outside?" Through the cacophony of voices Octavius was able to pick out a few phrases, but the rest was incomprehinsible. Suddenly a voice rose above the others.

 

"Just back off for a minute," said the person above him, shooing the people back a little. Octavius sat up, looking around as his eyes adjusted to the light. Surrounding him were about a dozen men, all clad in varying assortments of leather and dull-colored coton cloth. Beyond the crowd he could see a farmhouse, two stories with a wrap-around porch. He began to get a sinking feeling in his gut; it dropped out completely when a figure moved in his line of sight, mischievous grin on his face.

 

"Jedediah," Octavius whispered softly, for there was no question to who this person was. The cowboy in question frowned slightly, but it was gone in a flash. Jedediah offered his hand down to Octavius, who accepted it cautiously. The leather-wrapped fingers tightened around his own, and they were dropped just as quickly when Octavius was standing.

 

"It seems you have the advantage here, knowin' my name an' all," Jedediah said brightly. "I got no idea who you are, though, so maybe you could start there." Octavius glanced around at the gathered men, who were all watching him, vaguely recognizing them as ranch-hands.

 

"My name is Octavius," he answered. "Oooh we got ourselves one of them high-society types here, boys," one of the men called out mockingly, drawing chuckles from the rest. "I betcha he's from New York, ain't ya? Ya got that uppity accent. Name like that, and probably a snob ta boot. You ain't gonna last a day out here, boy," he sneered. Jedediah scowled at the man.

 

"Now that's enough, Pete," he scolded. "I ain't carin' where abouts he came from. Long as he's a good man, he's got a place here." Pete's head dropped, but he wasn't ashamed one bit. Octavius saw him throwing glances at the other men, who just smirked in return. Turning from Pete, Jedediah's gaze wandered around his gathered men. "I don't know 'bout the rest of you, but I'm mighty hungry and Josephine's cookin' up quite the breakfast for us 'fore we start in today. So whaddya say we all just head back to the house and chow down?" Murmurs of agreement ran through the men, and they all started the short trek to the farmhouse. Jedediah lagged back, walking alongside Octavius. "Quite the name ya got there," he said idly. Octavius tensed, waiting for jibes along the lines of what Pete was saying to come.

 

"I believe it to be, yes," he responded cooly.

 

"Wasn't he some Roman fella?" Octavius glanced at Jedediah in mild surprise, earning a small smile from the cowboy. "Weren't expecting some filthy barbarian like me to know that, were ya?"

 

"Not at all," he replied. Jedediah arched an eyebrow at him. "Not that you're a filthy barbarian," Octavius backtracked, "it's just not common knowledge, I assumed."

 

"It ain't," Jedediah admitted. "My mother was a school teacher from out east. She was the knowledgeable type, like you. Taught me an' Josephine our letters, readin' an' writtin' an' whatnot." They were on the porch now, standing beside the door. Honestly Octavius had forgotten that he'd written their mother as a teacher.

 

The inner door of the house was open; Octavius could hear the jumbled voices of the men filtering through the screen door. Jedediah opened the screen door, holding it open for the man, an invitation into his home. Octavius gave him a small nod in thanks and entered the house, his feet following his nose and ears to where the others had gathered around a large wooden table loaded with plates of bacon, eggs, fried potatoes, and pitchers of coffee. A woman bustled about the room, griping at the men with a smile on her face. She was thin and pretty, strawberry hair falling midway down her back in loose curls. Octavius was startled out of his observations by Jedediah's hand on his shoulder, encouraging him into the room.

 

"Josephine," he said, calling the woman over, "this is Octavius. Octavius, this is my sister Josephine." Octavius nodded his head politely at her.

 

"Ma'am," he said simply. She smiled widely at him, pulling him in for an unexpected hug.

 

"Nice to meetcha," she said, holding him at arm's length. She gave him a once-over, seeming satisfied with what she saw. "Maybe we'll finally have a man of class around here, huh Jed?" Jedediah laughed.

 

"I believe so, Josie," he said. He steered Octavius toward two open chairs at the table, pushing him down in one before sitting in the other. A loaded plate was pushed in front of him quickly by Josephine, and Jedediah nugded him, gesturing for him to dig in as the cowboy did the same. Octavius slowly began to pick at his food, still quite confused as to how he had ended up inside his book; he had deduced that it wasn't a dream, so perhaps some strange sorcery, maybe a secret government conspiricy. Whatever it was, it was confusing as hell. He was drawn out of his thoughts by a voice. That was Jedediah speaking to him.

 

"What brings you 'round these parts, Octavius?" he asked. Octavius cleared his throat, taking a sip of the strong coffee before responding.

 

"I'm not really sure, honestly." Some of the men cast skeptical looks around at each other, not really saying anything.

 

"What's yer name all about? It's mighty strange." The question came from a boy who couldn't be more than fifteen, bearing a strong resemblance to Jedediah.

 

"Joshua! That ain't polite. Where's your manners, boy?" Jedediah scolded. So the kid was Joshua, Jed's younger brother, Octavius remembered.

 

"It's alright, Jedediah," he said. Turning, he looked at Joshua. "I was named for Gaius Octavius, better known as Augustus. He was the first emperor of the Roman Empire." Snickers ran around the table.

 

"Well lookie here, boys," Pete's mocking voice called out. "Toga-boy's tryna teach us some history." The volume of the snickers increased, though they were clearly trying to be contained.

 

"Maybe if you learned a little history you might get yourself a lady. But you cain't teach an ass to read, so I don't reckon on that ta happen soon," Jedediah remarked. Laughter finally erupted at the table as Pete's face flushed red. Jedediah gave Octavius a smile and began gesturing around the table. "Pete you know. That there's Ridley, Kit, Beau, and Wallace. Over there's Hector, but we just call him Big 'Un. The scarred up dude in the corner's Pierson. Then there's Zeke, Jason, Linus, Michael, Duncan, and Drexel. Little fella right there's my brother Joshua, and of course, my name's Jedediah. You can call me Jed if ya want." Each man nodded in turn as his name was said, a few even offering small waves. Octavius nodded a greeting to them, giving a small smile.

 

An unspoken signal seemed to go around the table, because slowly the men started standing and filing out the door. Beside him, Jedediah stood, edging his way around the room. Octavius stood quickly, not exactly willing to be left. Jedediah made his way back over to him, eyes examining him. He suddenly felt awkward standing there, tiny bolts of lightning flying over his skin. Jedediah's eyes met his, and the cowboy grinned.

 

"You ever ridden a horse?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Octavius on a farm. And some feels. Not much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys. Writer's block and a wonky computer make for late updates.

The horse barn was hot, smelling of hay, sweat, and, well, horse shit. Soft nickers and whinnies could be heard on occasion from the large animals in their stalls. Warm sunlight filtered in through the open door and loft door, illuminating the dust motes that floated through the air.

Octavius felt slightly uncomfortable standing there next to Jedediah; the cowboy was relaxed, completely at home, whereas Octavius was entirely out of his element, being more used to crowded buildings than open space and large animals. Not that he hadn't ridden a horse before; he had. It had just... been awhile.

"C'mon, partner," Jedediah said, clapping his shoulder. "Let's get you a horse." He lead Octavius down the center of the barn, past multiple stalls, some empty and some with horses. They stopped in front of the second to last stall on the right side of the barn; inside was a beautiful black stallion with a white patch over one shoulder. As they approached, the stallion walked forward until his head was hanging over the door of the stall. Jedediah stood beside him, holding his hand out for the horse to sniff before stroking his nose. Octavius wandered to stand beside Jedediah, watching the exchange quietly.

"This is Rigel," Jedediah said softly, so as not to startle the animal. "He's nice enough, if he likes ya. Ain't too many folks this horse likes, though."

"And why's that?" Octavius asked, warily taking a step back. Jedediah turned to look as his eyes caught the small movement, offering a teasing smile.

"Nervous?" he teased, taking a step to stand beside Octavius.

"No," Octavius responded cooly. Jedediah's grin grew bigger.

"You don't hafta be scared of him. The most he'll do is back away from ya. Here," Jedediah grabbed Octavius's hand, moving so both their hands were now outstretched toward Rigel.

It's not the horse I'm afraid of, Octavius thought to himself, tiny bolts of energy shooting up his arm. He looked from their hands to Jedediah's calm face, trying to get himself to relax. With effort, he took a step towards the stall, pulling his hand out of Jedediah's and turning the palm up. He left it a few inches from the end of the horse's nose, opting to let Rigel decide whether or not he liked Octavius.

He could feel the hot bursts of air from the horse's large nostrils; the sensation was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. Octavius glanced over at Jedediah, who was simply smiling at him. He turned back to Rigel, meeting one of the horse's large brown eyes. There was a wisdom in the depths, as if Rigel were actually searching Octavius's mind and soul. Which is totally weird, right? Suddenly there was a light pressure against his hand, and the soft hairs on Rigel's nose were brushing his palm.

"Well I'll be damned," Jedediah exclaimed quietly. "Ain't nobody gotten that horse on the first try before, not even me." Octavius's brow furrowed, turning his head to look at the cowboy.

"If you knew he doesn't like people, then why the hell did you take me to him first?" He wasn't angry, exactly. More like really confused. Jedediah laughed.

"Amusement for one," he offered bluntly. "Figured you'd be too scared of the damned horse to get near him, specially if I told ya he didn't care for people."

"Well thanks," Octavius replied dryly, focusing back on Rigel, who had nudged his arm for attention.

"Another reason," Jedediah began, stepping up beside him, his hand reaching to stroke Rigel's long nose, "is 'cause when I looked at you, I thought of him."

"I remind you of a horse? That's flattering," Octavius huffed. Jedediah laughed.

"Naw. Not physically, anyway. Your personality and behavior's the same, though."

"How so?"

"I was watchin' you at breakfast," he admitted. "Skittish sorta. You were awful quiet most the time, but you still held yourself all noble like. You don't like people," the cowboy observed, purposly moving his hand by Octavius's and noting how the other man flinched away, "you don't trust them, probably 'cause some bad history. But you stayed calm, because it was expected of ya." Jedediah dropped his hand from Rigel's nose, directly facing Octavius, who wouldn't look at him. "I ain't seen much of it yet, but you got a fightin' spirit in there. Don't know how I know it, but I do."

Octavius felt Jedediah's gaze on him, urging him to look. He didn't. Come on, he thought, this isn't real. Get your shit together, freak. Sighing, he faced Jedediah, looking him in the eye. Wow, his eyes are gorgeous. He's FICTIONAL, you idiot. Fiction. Fake. Not real. Not to mention out of your league. Too good for shit like you. Oh, yeah, and he's fiction. Fiction fiction fiction fiction. The word played on repeat in his mind, a steady pounding mantra that actually managed to keep him grounded.

Jedediah's face was serious, but turned playful again once Octavius looked at him. "You ready to ride him?" he asked.

"I really don't think that's a good idea," Octavius managed, backing away slightly. Rigel in turn stretched his neck, trying to persuade Octavius to pet him again. Jedediah's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I'm runnin' a sizeable ranch here, boy. Ain't gonna get very far by just walkin' around."

"Well yes of course. It's just that I haven't ridden a horse in quite some time and I thought it might be better if I knew the layout before I tried riding around the ranch." He managed to come up with that excuse fairly simply, although it wasn't exactly the truth; Octavius knew perfectly well where everything was on that ranch. Jedediah nodded in return.

"Makes sense, I s'pose. I was meanin' to show ya around anyway, an' most the barns are close enough that takin' a horse is just plain stupid." The cowboy turned, walking briskly back through the stables and out into the bright daylight. Octavius hurried to follow him, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. From this spot he could see two smaller barns connected to wood fenced yards, a nearly empty hen house, with the chickens pecking at the dirt around it, a large corral, and the beginning of the large pasture, in which he could distantly see a few cattle. The farmhouse sat a few yards in front of all the barns; the back porch was visible from Octavius's vantage point, and he could just barely see a large yellow dog curled by the door.

Octavius searched for something conversational to say, but found nothing. He already knew everything there was to know about this ranch and the people on it. It was an uncomfortable position for him to be in, following silently behind Jedediah, who seemed slightly put off. What had he said that upset the young rancher?

"Somethin' naggin' at ya back there, Oct?" Jedediah called over his shoulder. He shook out his thoughts, looking up at the blond man's back instead of the ground.

"Oct?"

Jedediah shrugged, slowing his pace to walk beside Octavius. "Octavius is kinda a mouthful," he explained. "I could call ya somethin' else if you'd like."

"No, no, it's fine. It's just new."

"Aw, c'mon. Name like that and nobody ever gave ya a nickname?" All the names he had ever been called started running through Octavius's head, keeping him silent. Freak, weirdo, nerd, geek, loser, fag, queer. Disappointment. That last one hurt the most, much more than any of the others.

"Not like that, no," he responded with a shake of his head. "Although my little sister did call me Octopus when she was a kid. She couldn't pronounce my name for the longest time." Jedediah laughed.

"Dang, and I thought I had it bad. Josie and Josh both called me Debbie, although I think Josh only did it because Josie taught him to." The thought of that brought a small smile to Octavius's face. He had developed his characters, yes, but he had never really thought much about their backstory. All of this was new to him, and it was surprising; the characters he created had secrets that even he didn't know. And... He wanted to know Jedediah's.

"Younger siblings are indeed a handfull."

"You got that right, boy," Jedediah agreed, leading Octavius to one of the small barns. "It's hard enough just havin' 'em pester ya all day, try raisin' one. I practically had to raise Josie and Josh when I was jus' a kid myself. Makes ya grow up quick, that's for damn sure."

Octavius stopped him before they entered the barn. "Jedediah, why are you telling me this? I just met you." He had written the man as nice and trusting, but this was almost crazy.

Jedediah watched him for a moment before responding. "I don't know why, boy, but I trust you. I feel safe around you, and like I gotta run my mouth to keep out the silence. You ain't gonna judge me." None of it was a question. Jedediah spoke with total conviction. "There's somethin' connectin' us, Oct, and hell if I know what it is, but it's there. You appeared out of nowhere this mornin'. You ain't the type to be out here, but you are, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna try and stop whatever crazy plan fate has in the works. So if I get the urge to tell ya my whole life story in one blasted day, then I sure as hell will because I don't question the big picture anymore. You, that's all you do. I don't even know you, but I can see it; even now, you're wonderin' why all this is happenin'. I may have just met you, but already I trust you with my life. I trust you more than any of those men because dammit Octavius you're different. Whatever the hell it is that's tellin' me to trust you, I'm gonna listen to it. Got it, kemosabe?" Octavius was speechless. Jedediah's eyes were bright, daring him to question or deny anything he had just said. The most he could manage was a small nod in response.

How do you know these things? he thought, watching as Jedediah turned around. How in the world can you tell? What the bloody hell is going on here?

Whatever it was, it was going to be interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavi found the liquor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooow I wrote this in two days. I think that's the fastest I've ever written a chapter! Although admittedly I had to completely restart it three times before I got a flow going. Well anyway.

At the end of the day, Octavius was put up a large wooden bunkhouse off to the side of the house. There were rooms enough for each of the hands to have their own and a few extra. He was led to his room by Drexel, a man of medium build with reddish brown hair and hazel eyes who turned out to be quite cheerful. He chartered as he led Octavius up the creaky stairs and down the second floor hallway to what he assumed was to be his room.

"We all gotta sleep out here, ya understand. We can go into the house any time we want, but only Jed, Josie, and Josh sleep in there. Ain't nobody allowed upstairs or in any of the bedrooms in the house," the man was saying as he turned into a room half way down the hall. "You'll be stayin' here, next door to Linus. Not a bad draw if ya ask me. At least ya ain't roomin' by Ridley. Man snores like a freight train, shakes the whole damn place." Octavius nodded politely, still entirely out of his element. The only person he felt even the remotest bit of ease around was Jedediah, and even that was filled with a strange pull and occasional awkwardness. "Anyway, we're lucky enough to have plumbing way out here, thanks ta Jed's old man. Just make yourself at home, and wake up with the rest a us, or ya won't get any breakfast." With that he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Octavius standing there dumbly.

How in the world could he make himself at home? He didn't even have any clothes, for one. For another thing, he wasn't sure that he wasn't just dreaming this and the moment he went to sleep he would wake up again in HIS bed, in HIS clothes, and in HIS house. Octavius wandered over to the bed sitting on the edge tiredly. It was eight thirty at night and he was very confused about all the goings on around him. What he needed was a drink. Fortunately for Octavius, he knew every damned thing about the ranch, if not the people. He could well find his way to the liquor cabinet in the living room of the farm house.

Wandering back downstairs, past a couple hands playing poker and a few others passed out in chairs in the small sitting room of the bunkhouse, he walked through the door and into the warm night air. He took his time on the short stroll to the farm house, quite enjoying the open country air that existed before the corruption of cities and pollution and greenhouse gases. He hesitated at the door for a moment before stepping inside, navigating his way through the parlor to the living room. The cabinet was surprisingly ornate, with polished dark wood and frosted glass doors; the small brass knobs rested just above a matching brass keyhole that Octavius knew would be locked. Wandering over to the stone fireplace, he counted one, two, three, four stones from the left edge and three from the top of the mantle, removing the loose stone and taking the small key from behind it.

Should he feel guilty about breaking into the liquor cabinet? Probably. Did he? Hell no, especially if all he was drinking was the cheap whiskey; he personally hated bourbon and rich scotch. He did, however, feel a small twinge of regret that he didn't have any ice as he poured an inch of whiskey into the tumbler he had grabbed from the top of the cabinet. Octavius settled himself in a chair in front of the empty fireplace, allowing himself to sink into the cushions as he stared at the wall.

"Normally people ask before raidin' the liquor cabinet, I believe." Octavius jumped at the sound of Jedediah's voice, and he spun around in his chair to see the blond standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He made his way to the cabinet, pouring a drink for himself and sitting on the couch that ran perpendicular to Octavius's chair.

"The only fault in your logic is that I am not normal," he remarked, leaning back in his chair once the cowboy had settled. "It is not lost on me that 'raiding the liquor cabinet,' as you say, is remarkably rude, and I would have asked had I had the patience to look for you. As it was, I did not have such patience, and so here we are." The end of Octavius's short explanation was punctuated by him taking a sip of the pilfered whiskey.

Jedediah smirked. "Makes sense, I reckon," he said, sipping from his own glass. "Coulda sworn the thing was locked though." Here it was Octavius's turn to smirk.

"It was," he said, holding up the small key for the blond to see it. His grin spread at Jedediah's gaping expression, tossing the key to the master of the house, who then proceeded to stand and check the key's hiding place behind the loose stone. He returned smiling, shaking his head in awe.

"How in the world did ya know where that key was?" Jedediah asked as he sat back down.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he replied, his smile lessening slightly, taking another sip of the near-empty glass. Jedediah watched him quietly, standing once more to retrieve the bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and refilling Octavius's glass, setting the whole bottle on the table in front of them as he returned to his seat.

"Say for a moment that I would believe you-" he began, but was cut off.

"You won't," Octavius said stolidly. His tone put an end to the conversation, though Jedediah clearly wasn't ready to move on. He dropped it though, letting them move from the topic.

"What brought on the need ta drink anyway? If ya don' mind my askin'." Octavius waited a moment before he replied, letting the words soak through his mind with the alcohol. He sighed and looked away from the drink the had been using to avoid Jedediah's eyes. His eyes landed on the night sky that was visible through the tall bay window, its thick curtains pulled back.

"An existential crisis pertaining to my destiny, perhaps," he said finally. "Or possibly the overwhelming weight of my thoughts. Could be I was just thirsty, but it is significantly more likely that I just wished to stop thinking for a while. It is quite plausible that it was a mixture of all of those things." Octavius felt Jedediah's confused gaze on him, but didn't turn to meet it. Maybe I just wanted to see you again because you are the only one I can talk to, he thought, numbed enough by the whiskey to not care about it, to not remind himself that Jed was only fiction.

"That, uh. That sounds like a good reason ta be drinkin' alright," the man in question managed at last. Octavius scoffed, but didn't reply. He knew well enough how fucked up he was in the head, he didn't need a fictional character trying to sympathize. "Look, Oct, I don't care too much if ya go drinkin', the damn thing's locked just ta keep Josh outta trouble. As long as you can get yerself up in the mornin' and function along with the rest a us."

Now he did turn back to Jedediah. "Believe it or not, I can handle my liquor, Jedediah."

"I never said you couldn't, boy. I just don't think it'd be smart for you to be gettin' shitfaced on yer first day here." Octavius gave him a smirk.

"What are you going to do, fire me?" he asked snarkily. Maybe this stuff was stronger than he had thought. Jed frowned.

"No, but I will make ya shovel the stables. Come on, Oct, you've had plenty." Octavius glanced down at his empty glass and debated getting a third. Instead he sighed, setting the empty tumbler on the table beside the bottle of whiskey.

"I suppose you're right," he acquiesced quietly. Jedediah took the whiskey and the tumbler, putting the former back in the cabinet and locking it, carrying the latter to the kitchen along with his own glass. He returned quickly enough, sitting on the couch once more. "I should probably return to my room now," Octavius said, standing up slowly.

"I'll go with you," Jedediah said, rising once again. "I think that stuff was stronger than you thought." Octavius began to protest, but the words died on his lips. Why not let Jedediah walk with him back to the bunkhouse? It's not like anything could actually happen.

They walked back to the bunkhouse in silence, Octavius not quite drunk enough to need assistance walking. "Drunk" wasn't even the term he would use to describe it; he'd only had two drinks after all. Perhaps "inebriated" was a better term. In the sitting room, the poker game was still going, but the hands that had been passed out in chairs were gone, presumably to their rooms. The ones playing poker looked up as Jed and Octavius passed, nodding politely before resuming their game. (Octavius didn't stumble on the stairs, and he certainly didn't enjoy the warmth of Jedediah's steadying hand on his back. No, not Octavius.)

When they got to his room, Octavius collapsed face first onto the bed, leaving Jed standing there somewhat awkwardly.

"This is yer room?" the cowboy asked.

"So they tell me," Octavius muttered into his pillow. He half felt Jed's gaze again, through the fog of alcohol.

"Where's all yer stuff?" Octavius rolled over on his back, looking strangely at Jedediah.

"I don't have anything," he replied slowly. This drew a straight confused look from Jedediah that was positively-- not adorable no, definitely not. Jesus Christ how strong was that stuff?

"No clothes or books or… nothing? It wasn't with you when you got here?" Octavius scoffed and rolled back on his stomach.

"I don't even know HOW I got here," he mumbled. "I just woke up on the ground out there." He heard Jedediah moving, his footsteps coming closer.

"Come see me tomorrow morning," he said from right beside the bed. He blew out the oil lamp on the bedside table before turning and walking out of the room. Octavius was asleep before Jedediah's footsteps completely faded from the bunkhouse.

************************************************************

The next morning he only had a slight headache, surprisingly. He supposed it was a genetic resistance to alcohol, seeing as he came from a family of alcoholics. Not that this was the first time he had gotten drunk, nor was it the worst. Octavius made his way downstairs, past the other ranch hands stumbling around only half awake. He probably looked worse than they did, with his rumpled day-old clothes and stubble, though admittedly most of the hands already had full beards with the exception of Drexel, Pete, Kit, and Pierson.

Jedediah's words from the previous night came back to him, and he found himself wandering to the farm house, absently wondering what the man could have wanted. Walking through the front door, he could smell sausage frying from the direction of the kitchen, Josephine already hard at work cooking breakfast for the hungry hands. Had he known where to find Jed, he would have walked right past, but as he didn't, he figured Josephine would be a good place to start.

She didn't turn around as the door opened, just kept her back to him were she stood at the stove. "I don't think so, Josh. You're just gonna hafta wait and eat with the others," she said. It brought a small smile to Octavius's face.

"Actually I was hoping you could tell me where I might find Jedediah?" he asked amusedly, watching as she spun around. Her eyes were almost comically wide, and a slight blush spread across her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Octavius," she apologized. "I thought you were Josh; he normally tries ta steal some breakfast before the guys come in." She turned back to the food, speaking as she tended to it. "Whatcha lookin' for Jed for?"

"I'm not sure, exactly," he replied. "He told me to come see him this morning, but I have not the slightest idea of where to find him."

"Well he's prob'ly still in his room then. Lazy bones don't get up 'til darn near seven thirty. You can go on up, if he told ya to go to him. It's upstairs, second door on the left." She threw a small smile over her shoulder. "Now go on, get outta here, 'fore I hafta chase ya out."

"Thank you," he said as he backed out of the room. Octavius walked up the stairs, not forgetting Drexel's warning from yesterday but also not worried. He had known where Jedediah's room was, actually. He hesitated outside the door, raising his fist to knock quietly.

"Go 'way, Josh," came the muffled reply.

"It's, um, Octavius," he called awkwardly through the door. "You told me to come see you." He heard shuffling around, a thump, and soft footsteps coming to the door, just before the door opened a crack to reveal a sleepy looking Jedediah, squinting almost angrily.

"Wasn't expectin' ya to come. Figured ya'd be too hungover to remember I'd said that."

"Not quite," Octavius responded, still feeling awkward standing in the hallway. Jedediah stepped back, opening the door wider to allow Octavius into the room. He stepped inside warily, taking in the simple room. The bed was mussed, there was one chair pushed into the corner and a wardrobe stood against one wall. The door to the conjoining bathroom was open, and there was a single book on the nightstand beside an oil lamp. The crowning piece of the room was Jedediah himself, standing beside the door with rumpled hair in only loose cloth sleep pants. Octavius purposely looked elsewhere, hoping that he wasn't blushing.

"Jus' wait a minute," Jedediah said, his voice slurred with sleep. "Lemme get dressed." He began pulling clothes out of the wardrobe, and then proceeded to dress in front of Octavius. Now his face was certainly burning. God damned shameless cowboy, he cursed internally. He turned his attention to the book on the nightstand, which upon closer inspection turned out to be poetry.

"Keats?" he questioned. Jed gave a sort of questioning grunt, not quite focused on what Octavius was doing. "You read Keats?" he clarified his question.

"I told ya. My mother was a teacher. Keats was her favorite. She'd read it to me at nights, and it kinda stuck." The book was obviously well loved; the spine was cracked and the title was faded, and several pages were dog-eared. Suddenly a hand reached around him, grabbing the book. Octavius spun, seeing Jedediah, now completely dressed, open it to one of the pages and read for a quick second before snapping it shut again. He placed it gently back on the nightstand, gesturing for Octavius to follow him. "Come on, Oct."

He walked out of the room, Octavius right behind him, following him down the hallway two doors and turned into the room on the right, the room Octavius knew to be Jedediah's father's.

"My old man was about the same size and build as you are. You should be able ta fit some a his old clothes." He began digging in an old wooden trunk, pulling out pieces of clothing much like he had done for himself.

"Jedediah, are you sure?" Octavius asked, feeling slightly awkward at the thought of wearing his father's clothes.

"It ain't like he's usin' 'em no more," Jed replied with a shrug. "Go on, take 'em," he said, holding out the stack of clothes. "And take a blasted bath. You smell like whiskey. You can just use my bathroom."

"Jedediah, I can't-"

"Don't say it, boy. Just go, would ya? I'll see ya downstairs in a few minutes," Jed said, patting his shoulder as he walked past on his way to the kitchen. Octavius stood there for a minute, dumbfounded. What in the world?

He rushed his way through a bath in Jedediah's bathroom, feeling so very awkward about it all. The clothes fit almost perfectly, though, and it felt great to be out of those old clothes (he had no idea where they'd come from; it's just what he was wearing when he woke up here). Making his way downstairs, he heard the chatter of people in the dining room, not quite full yet but getting there. He walked in, noting that there was an empty chair beside Jedediah once more. Octavius sat timidly, but nobody gave him a second glance, except Jedediah, who gave him a sideways grin before turning back to the conversation at the table. The rest of the hands filtered in a few minutes later, shortly followed by Josephine with the food.

"Got a full day ahead of us boys, so chow down while you can," Jedediah said, digging into his food. The hands quickly followed suit, leaving Octavius to wonder just what kind of day was ahead of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's a few things I wanted to say about this story that probably will never actually be said in the story.  
> -It's set in the 1880s in northern Texas, except for the beginning and the very end, which takes place in modern New York.  
> -Jed and Oct are 24, Josie is 20, and Josh is 15  
> -Josie has a slight crush on Oct, probably because he's actually polite and civilized.  
> -Oct is obviously gay, but he hates himself for it because his father disapproved of, well, Octavius overall. His son was a failure in his eyes.  
> -Drexel is NOT a human Dexter, or else his name would have been Dexter.  
> -Don't forget about Pete. He's important.
> 
> That's all for now, I think. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor gay Octavius...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE. And I sincerely apologize for the wait. To make up for it, I tried to add some humor to this chapter and make it slightly longer than usual. Any who... Without further ado!

Octavius was... Awkward, to say the least. What in God's name made Jedediah think that having him out in a pasture rounding up sheep - fucking SHEEP - on a large animal which he was barely acquainted with was a good idea? He tried to help, but he got the feeling that he was only getting in the way. He supposed it was better than him working around the cattle. Fortunately, Rigel seemed tuned to the fact that Octavius was on edge, and was consequently more calm than he should have been. Weren't horses supposed to be nervous if their riders were nervous?

After about an hour of Octavius being counterproductive, he was sent back to the farmhouse with an apologetic smile from Jed and a cocky glare from Pete. God, Pete frustrated him. He couldn't quite remember why though; something to do with his role in Octavius's novel, perhaps... He wracked his brain, trying to remember what Pete did in his novel, but, for whatever reason, he couldn't.

Sighing, Octavius chalked it up to do exhaustion as he neared the farmhouse. He dismounted (with little difficulty he's proud to say) and walked Rigel back to his stall, giving the beast a friendly pat on the nose and some fresh water before actually heading for the farmhouse. He couldn't hear anything from inside as he approached, but that didn't mean anything as Josie could be doing any number of things.

Inside was almost eerily quiet, the only sound being a soft keening song coming from an old gramophone in the corner of the parlor. He walked softly, fearing to break the silence that lay over the house like a blanket. The kitchen, he found, was empty, the ovens cooling and dishes drying beside the sink. The living room was empty, and Octavius feared to check upstairs without express permission to go up. Belatedly thinking to look out back, he stuck his head out the back door and saw the woman hanging up laundry on a clothesline.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, walking up behind Josie and causing her to jump.

"Christ almighty, you scared th' wits outta me, Octavius," she laughed, pressing a hand to her chest.

"My apologies," he said, bending over to pick up the shirt she had dropped. "I should have announced myself." He handed the shirt over, letting the woman hang it on the line.

"Nah, you're fine. I just scare too easy." She turned, grabbing the next piece of clothing from the basket and throwing one of her signature small smiles at Octavius. "As for you helpin', well I cain't think a much 'round th' house for you ta be doin'. Speakin' of, why are ya up here? I thought you were helpin' some a the boys bring in the sheep?"

Octavius chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly. "Yes, well. I was doing more harm than help. Jedediah sent me back here so I 'don't get hurt.'" He made air quotes around the last words, smirking sarcastically. Josie gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

"Yeah, that sounds 'bout right. Jed's jus' tryin' ta keep ya safe; he'd do it for anyone." She picked up the now empty laundry basket, walking back to the house with Octavius trailing behind. "You'll find your place here, don't you worry none."

"I can assure you that myself on a ranch at all is a very hazardous concept; there is no place here for someone like me," he scoffed.

"That ain't true!" Josie scolded him. "Jus' 'cause you ain't so good with the animals don't mean you ain't got a place. Now you jus' stop yer talkin' like that, 'cause I know what you can do." She dropped her basket on the back porch, causing the yellow dog to stir slightly.

"And what is that?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, Jed's got a wagon load of hay that's gotta be taken in to the livery, and I need ta go into town anyways, so I figure we can jus' knock out two birds with one stone. Whaddya say?" He stared at her for a minute, comprehending what she just said.

"You... want me to drive a wagon loaded with hay into town?" He wasn't quite sure what made her think that was a good idea; he could barely handle one horse.

"Not necessarily. You don't actually have to drive," she assured him, "it just ain't fittin' for a girl to be goin' into town alone, ya know?"

"I don't, actually, but I would be happy to accompany you nonetheless," he replied honestly. Josie grinned at him, and he was suddenly struck with how similar she looked to Jedediah. It shouldn't have surprised him; they were siblings. He couldn't help but wish, though, that it was Jedediah himself grinning at him, that it was Jed openly defending Octavius's place on the ranch, and that he were going into town with Jedediah.

"Great!" Josie's voice pulled him from his musings. "Give me just a few minutes, then we can get goin'."

Fifteen minutes later found them on the worn dirt road into the town of Hartridge, Josie behind the reins of the two-horse team, Octavius holding on for dear life with each jarring bump in the road. He felt that he might puke, honestly, but the scent of the hay had a strangely soothing effect.

"How m-uch far-ther is it?" he managed around the jolting of the wagon as it hit multiple pot holes.

"Ya should be able ta see it in jus' another minute," Josie said, unfazed by the rough ride. Sure enough, as they crested a hill Octavius could see the tops of buildings, then the buildings themselves in full view, along with people milling around on the street. He could see the jail, the saloon, the inn, the doctor's office, the general store, and the livery. Horses were tied up to various hitches along each side of the road, waiting for their riders to get back. If he squinted, he could just barely make out the eleven o'clock stage coming in from the opposite end of town.

Josie guided the horses to the livery, getting friendly greetings from most of the townspeople. "You certainly know a lot of people, don't you?" Octavius inquired softly. She threw a sideways glance at him, focusing mostly on easing the horses into the large barn.

"'S not the biggest a towns anymore. Not too many people ta know. Used ta be one a them big boom towns, but the ol' mines dried up in jus' a few months an' ev'ryone up and left. Coupl'a people stayed, not carin' too much about riches." She had climbed down from the wagon at this point and was talking to one of the stable hands about the load of hay.

Octavius let his mind drift a little, wondering why this information all sounded new to him. He wrote the novel, he created the characters, he made up the town and its history. So why was it all fading away?

"You gonna stay up there all day, Slick?" Octavius was startled out of his thoughts - why was he always so lost when he let his mind drift? - by the stable hand Josie had been talking to, Josie herself watching amusedly off to the side.

He felt his face heat up slightly. "Uh, no. No, sorry." He rushed to climb down, careful not to fall on his face and make even more a fool of himself. Successfully dismounted, Octavius made his way over to Josie; she looped her arm through his and led him out of the barn, still chuckling to herself.

"My, my, you really ain't accustomed to the west none, are ya Octavius?"

"I'm afraid not, no. I'm more of a city person, in fact."

"Ya don't say," she responded dryly, showing traces of Jedediah's trademark humor. "Don't you worry none, though. You'll get the hang a this place soon 'nough." They were on the street at this point, the sun beating down from above.

"If you don't mind my asking," Octavius began, mildly distracted by the way people in the streets were staring at them, "what exactly are we in town for? Other than the hay, that is."

Josie squeezed his arm excitedly. "I'm makin' a surprise for the boys. I figured you could help me."

"I suppose..." he replied nervously. "What did you have in mind?"

***

Octavius definitely did NOT sign up for this.

Well, he didn't sign up for any of it, really, but this was definitely unexpected. Waking up in his novel? Sure, he could handle that (barely). Rude people who made fun of him? Psh, that's every day. Riding a horse? Takes some adjustment. Helping Josie make lunch for fourteen hungry men? Why not, he liked cooking (even though lunch was really just sandwiches). But Jedediah - whom he had sculpted literally after his dream man - skinny dipping? HELL no.

And then being invited to join? Octavius might have died. No, he probably was dead. Octavius had died somehow and this was his form of hell: stuck in a story he had created during a homophobic time period with the man of his dreams dangled (no pun intended) tantalizingly in front of him.

Perhaps some clarification.

After returning from town, Josie and Octavius had made sandwiches for all the men to enjoy during lunch; a special treat, Josie claimed. Sandwiches made and packed safely into a basket to carry, Josie pointed him in the direction of the creek, where the men always went during lunch because of the shade provided by the large old oak and birch trees along the banks. Riding Rigel once more (although a bit more comfortably this time), he came upon the other ranch hands' horses, accompanied by the sound of nearby laughter. After dismounting, he rounded the trees so the creek was in view, and lo and behold, fourteen grown-ass men naked as babies doing nothing less than (and he could not prevent his brain from thinking the all-too-accurate word) FROLICKING in the water.

To say that he was living his wildest dream would be an understatement (although some of the sights were a little less than pleasing to the eye).

Jedediah noticed him first, grinning beneath the shaggy blonde hair that was slicked to his head from the water. "Hey Octy! Whatcha got there?" The other men turned to look at him, causing his face to flare up brighter red than he was sure it had ever done before.

"Uhm, just some- I mean, Josie uh, she- we uh, made some sandwiches," he stammered, turning to look at the trees and away from the attractive naked man (and other much less attractive naked men) facing him.

Jed let out a whistle. "She sure does spoil us, huh fellas?" Murmurs of agreement rose from the other men as they began eyeing the basket hungrily. Octavius kept his gaze on the trees, his eyes flicking occasionally to Jedediah against his will, examining the blonde for seconds at a time before he regained control and pulled them back to the trees. On one quick glance he noticed Jedediah scrutinizing him, causing his face to heat even more. "Say, you look a little flushed, Oct. Why don't you cool down for a bit?" Octavius whipped his head around, momentarily distracted from his modest avoidance. He realized his mistake immediately and quickly righted it.

"Uh, y-you mean i-in there? With, uh, with all of you?" Jedediah shrugged, not that Octavius was watching. No, not Octavius.

"Where else, boy?" Now he was certain that his face was a lovely shade of crimson, and he was fairly sure he could hear some of the hands snickering at his obvious discomfort.

"Well, I uh- I-I promised Josie that, uh, that I would help her clean the, uh, the mess from lunch. B-but I would love to, uh, stay really. M-maybe some other time," Octavius stammered out to the obvious amusement of the hands. Jedediah, however, stared at him with a look of slight confusion, as if he were studying Octavius.

"C'mon, Jed! Let City Boy be; he's prob'ly jus' used ta them private baths and whatnot," one of the hands - Ridley? - called out, drawing Jedediah's gaze away from him, thankfully.

"Alright, whatever. Thanks for the lunch, boy. And tell Josie thanks too, huh?"

"Of course," Octavius replied, taking the opportunity to run for his life. Back on Rigel and safely halfway back to the farmhouse, he let himself slow down and process what had just happened.

Shit. He was so fucking screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said: poor gay Octavius.
> 
> I'm going to try to pick up the pace of the story a little bit from here, get to the actual plot and whatnot.
> 
> I would again like to thank everyone who left comments and offered support; if it weren't for y'all I wouldn't have motivation to continue. Special thanks to Lovly39, who has become like a personal cheerleader to me. I love all of you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jed tries the 'sharing means caring' tactic. Tavi discovers a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 39 days and I am sooooo sorry. BUT! This chapter is almost three times longer than he others, and hopefully what happens will make up for it. Enjoy lovelies!

Get it together, Blake. Quit acting like a hormonal teenager. Apparently scolding himself was becoming a new pass time of Octavius’s. He was doing it quite frequently lately.

He was currently in his room of the bunkhouse, knees drawn to his chest as he sat on the bed, breath shaky as he teetered on the edge of another existential crisis. He hadn't lied about helping Josie clean up; he actually had done so (Octavius despised lying when it could be avoided; if it were of a matter of self preservation, he wouldn't hesitate), but he had been shaky and unsteady, barely talking and almost dropping multiple items, the worst of which would have been the large cutting knife had he not been standing over the counter at the time. But now, Octavius was a mess, having barely held his composure in front of the woman. That was one more thing he despised: seeming weak in front of others. Or at least seeming unstable. And right now he was the furthest thing from stable.

He was, in a word, insane.

In two words: in love.

Hence the first word, insane.

He was absolutely, one hundred percent loony. You let yourself fall for a fictional character?! How fucked up are you? He hated himself for it in the first place, but he hated it even more that he only realized the fact that he was, indeed, in love with Jedediah after seeing the man naked.

It wasn't just his body, though (although it was an extremely nice body). Jedediah was kind and accepting and noble and loyal and brave and everything Octavius admired in a person. It was hard not to fall for a man like that.

Yep. Octavius was definitely insane.

He had no idea how long he sat there. His legs were cramped, his butt was numb, and he was quite hungry. His breathing had finally steadied again, but his head was still swimming. There was a knock at the door before Drexel was poking his head in.

“Hey, there ya are. Been lookin’ for ya.”

“I've been here,” he replied. Never let it be said that Octavius Blake wasn't a little shit, even in the midst of an emotional break down. Drexel rolled his eyes.

“Obviously. Anyways, Jed was wantin’ ta talk to ya before dinner, so just anytime you feel like comin’ down. Dinner’s in a coupla hours.” The man pulled back, closing the door behind him and leaving Octavius alone again.

Octavius sighed, dropping his head back on his knees. He knew it had been too much to hope that he could simply hide out until his life were returned to normal. He tried to think what Liv would say if she were here. Come on, Octavius. Are you going to beat yourself up over what you can't control? Get over yourself and keep moving. It's the lava game. You stay still, you get burned.

The thought of his sister brought a smile to his face, along with a pang of longing to return to his normal crappy life. Lava was a game they played as children, not only for amusement but for sanity. In the literal game sense they moved around on various objects across the floor, and if they were still they got burned. Later in their lives lava became a metaphor for keeping busy, not being stagnant and remaining at home, so as to avoid their father. Lava was how they survived. It burned away the past and the bad, kept them moving.

If he kept dwelling on this, he was bound to get burned. So Octavius got up and kept moving. He moved out of his room, out of the bunkhouse and…

Realized that he had no idea where Jedediah even was. There were hands moving all about the yard, but none of them were Jed. He decided not to worry too much about finding the man; if Jed really wanted to speak to him, he could seek him out personally.

Wandering aimlessly, Octavius found himself suddenly in the horse barn, surrounded by comforting warmth and the surprisingly calming scent of hay (although personally he could have done without the smell of horse shit). Rigel whinnied softly in his stall as Octavius approached, drawing as close to the man as the wooden door would let him. He drew close to the beast, stroking Rigel’s nose, the methodical motion actually serving to soothe his nerves.

“I'm hopeless, aren't I?” he sighed, earning a soft nicker in response. “Of course I am, I'm talking to a horse. I've gone mad.” Octavius leaned his forehead against the stallion, closing his eyes and missing the approach of another figure in the barn. “I'm an absolute freak,” he barked in a self-depreciating laugh.

“I wouldn't say that, exactly,” a voice spoke up, causing Octavius to jump slightly. He opened his eyes, but refused to look at the other person, keeping his gaze focused on the horse.

“You do not get to pass that judgement, Jedediah,” he said stolidly. “I'm afraid you don't actually know me well enough to do so.” He couldn't see, but he could tell by the silence that Jedediah was frowning at him.

“You're right, Spark. I don't know ya that well.” There was a short silence, broken only by their breaths and the distant noises of the ranch. “Why don't' we fix that?” Octavius warily turned to look at him, half curious and half cautious.

He had changed since getting back, it would appear, his dusty tan shirt swapped for one that was a rich purple, a surprisingly good color on him. He was wearing fresh jeans, also, but still the same scuffed and worn boots and felt Stetson hat.

“What?” he questioned, careful not to expand the question further or to show much emotion in his voice.

“Why don't we fix that, yeah? Let's talk, get ta know each other.”

“Why would you-”

“Jed!” Octavius was interrupted by a shout, and then Linus was poking his head through the barn door. “Jed, we got trouble.” Worry creased Jed's face; he shot Octavius a look and was rushing toward the yard, Octavius quick on his heels.

Outside, the hands had all grouped together, creating a formidable human barrier in front of a small group of six riders, everyone standing tense and uneasy. “Aw, shit, not now,” Jed mumbled, before making his way to the front of the group. “Lassiter! What the hell ya doin’ here, boy?” One man pulled in front of the other five slightly, his brown and white Appaloosa skittering nervously.  
Octavius recognized him as Franklin Lassiter, a very powerful and crooked man who, in his novel, had it out for the Smiths.

“You know why I'm here, Jed. You have something of mine.” The man remained calm, not breaking a sweat despite the sweltering heat, his ice blue eyes glittering cooly.

“I ain't got nothin’ a yours, and you got no business here, so you best be gettin’ on.”

“Your father owed me money, Jedediah. Now that he has… passed, those debts belong to you.” Lassiter paused, examining his nails with a smirk. “I want my money, Jed. The money or the ranch, it's your choice.”

“Aren't you making enough money selling those land grants, Lassiter?” a voice spoke up, and Octavius was surprised to hear it was his own. “You have nothing to gain here.” He didn't remember moving, but now he was standing beside Jedediah, the eyes of every man assembled focused on him confusedly.

Lassiter's eyes narrowed. “Big words. I don't know how you know what you do, but those big words might just get you in trouble if you speak them freely.” The thinly veiled threat didn't shock Octavius, but it did raise his concern.

“I'll take my chances,” he replied cooly. “Your business here is done.” Octavius crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down the man. Lassiter's gaze flicked back to Jedediah.

“You might keep your new guard dog on a leash, Jed.” He tipped his hat in mock cordiality. “Gentlemen.” He turned, his cronies following his lead as he road away from the ranch, all the hands’ glares chasing after them until they disappeared from sight.

The men gradually dispersed back to their duties, most offering grumbled complements to Octavius. Finally they were all gone but Jed, who was watching him with a quizzical expression.

“You know Lassiter?” he questioned. Octavius sighed.

“You could say that, yes.”

“Hm. Well, good work drivin’ ‘im off. Whatever it was you know, it don't seem like he wants others knowin’ about it.” He clapped Octavius’s shoulder, his hand a heavy weight on his back as he began pushing him to move slightly, leading them in a walk that Octavius didn't know the destination of.

“I wouldn't want it known if I were him, either,” Octavius admitted, slightly distracted by the warmth of Jedediah's hand still on his back.

“Only, there's one thing,” Jed began, dropping his hand finally. “It didn't seem like he knew you at all. How is that, Oct?” He watched Octavius, gaze searching.

“It's a long story,” he replied vaguely.

“You sure got a lot a those, boy. You better be ready ta tell ‘em eventually.” He watched, grinning as Octavius nodded mutely. “See ya later, yeah Oct? I got a little bit a work ta get done before dinner.” He patted Octavius on the back, heading off before waiting for an actual response.

“Yes, later,” he belatedly replied, watching Jedediah's retreating figure.

***

“Hey Oct, you up here?” Jedediah's voiced called, before his blonde head was poking around the door. He glanced up from the book he had borrowed from Ridley (he was surprised to find that the man was an avid reader of Jules Verne) to see the other man's blue eyes sparkling, trademark grin in place.

“May I help you, Jedediah?” Octavius asked, slightly confused. Jed shrugged, inviting himself into Octavius’s room and not answering the question. Instead his eyes wandered around the bare-bones room, finally landing once more on Octavius and the book he was holding.

“Whatcha readin’ there?” Octavius let his eyes fall to the book, closing it gently to examine the cover.

“Around the World in 80 Days,” he answered, glancing back up at Jed, who was watching him studiously. “Why?” Jed only shook his head.

“Follow me,” he said, turning on his heel, “I wanna show ya somethin’.” He walked out the door, leaving Octavius to scramble after him. By the time he was out the door, Jed was halfway down the stairs, indifferent to the other hands who were equally as indifferent to him. Octavius finally caught up to him when he reached the outer door, accompanying him into the warm night. They walked in amiable (although slightly curious on Octavius's part) silence, Jed leading them to the farmhouse.

At the foot of the stairs, Octavius paused, remembering yet again the warning against going up. Jed didn't notice his hesitation until he was halfway up, turning to look back at him. “You comin’ or what?” he called, then proceeded to ascend the staircase, Octavius quick on his heels. At the end of the hall, Jed opened a door narrower than the others, revealing another steep wooden staircase, climbing into darkness. He reached just past the door and flipped a switch, a dim electric bulb flickering to life. Jed threw another secretive grin his way before heading up the stairs, much more slowly this time, each step creaking from misuse. He followed the blonde man, spurred on by curiosity. “This is one of the few places we keep electricity,” Jed said quietly, adding to the eeriness. “Not because we can't afford it or anythin’, just ‘cause we don't need it.” The top of the stair revealed another door, which Jed paused at unexpectedly, causing Octavius to bump into him. He turned, some strange emotion shining in his eyes. “I haven't been up here in a while, understand? Don't- don't go judgin’ me none.” On that mysterious note, he twisted the knob, pushing the door open on the dark room.

Another flipped switch and the room was illuminated by artificial light, revealing a shelf along the wall lined with numerous books. The other end of the room, which seemed to span the length of the house, held a desk (how it had been brought up here he had no idea) covered in papers and a thin layer of dust. The slanting roof and side walls were covered in what looked like star charts and maps.

“You have a study… in your attic,” Octavius said in disbelief. He knew for certain that this was NOT part of his novel.

“Sure do. C’mere,” he replied, earlier strange emotion replaced by excitement. He grabbed Octavius by the wrist, dragging him over to the bookshelf where he pulled out two books simultaneously, handing them over. Octavius examined them, his jaw dropping slightly.

“This- these aren't really-?”

“Yup,” the blonde answered smirking. “First edition, Around the World in 80 Days. I've got others, too.”

“But- Jedediah, these are- This one's in French!” He was speechless. There was no way any of this was real. “You don't speak French!”

“Vous êtes mignons quand vous êtes énervé,” Jed replied flawlessly.

“I have no idea what you just said,” Octavius admitted, letting his gaze fall back to the books in hand. The English copy was a dark blue with silver embossing and lettering, the French opposite with red leather and gold embellishments. Gingerly he replaced them on the shelf, letting his fingers trail over other works. Verne. Wells. Poe. Keats. Tennyson. Yeats. Dickinson. Great works that were only decades old at this point, among older names like Hugo and Dante. It was a cache of revolutionary literature, some of it even in different languages. He spun back to face Jedediah. “But how?” A small smile was given in response, and Jed dropped his head to watch his boots in a manner that Octavius belatedly thought was shy.

“A lot of them belonged to my mother. Others I gathered later on. Had a hell of a time tryna find the ones in different languages.” He glanced up at Octavius through the hair flopped in his face. “Thought you might like it, ‘specially after I knew you read Verne.” He didn't like it. He loved it. Octavius felt a little like Belle from Beauty and the Beast (checking the shelf, he even saw a copy of Grimm Faery Tales), except instead of a short-tempered monster, he was with a kind, handsome young man.

“It's incredible,” he breathed, Jed's head shooting up and grinning at him in response.

“This ain't even the best part, Spark.” That name again. It was… different, held a different power to it. Octavius’s thoughts were drawn back when Jed jerked his head, gesturing for him to follow. He led the way to the slanted wall, approaching a section with a circular star chart and pushing lightly. Octavius saw a gap appear on the left side of the panel, a strip of night sky visible from his vantage point behind Jed. With a final shove, the panel swung outward, revealing a patio-like area, surrounded on three sides by the shingled roof of the house, the fourth side open and looking out on the ranch. Jed stepped forward, allowing Octavius to come stand beside him. “I used ta come out here all the time, nights like this, an’ jus’ lay back lookin’ at the stars.”

“It's an observatory,” Octavius murmured, awestruck at the clear night sky painted with thousands of stars and colorful nebulas.

“I suppose you would call it that, yeah,” Jed replied, walking over and sitting with his feet dangling over the edge. Octavius joined him, somewhat nervous about being on a ledge three stories off the ground, but Jedediah's presence beside him was reassuring.

“Why is this here?” he asked. Jedediah leaned back, laying on the floor of the observatory with his hands behind his head.

“For my mother,” the blonde replied simply, his voice quiet as it always got when he spoke of his mother. “My father built this house years before I was even born, back during the war. My mother was from east, like I told ya, and she knew damned near everything. Whatever she didn't know,she wanted to know it. She read everything she could, which is where most a those books come in. She'd traveled a whole bunch, too, back before she married my old man. All over Europe, and even to some Asian countries. Think she went to Australia once too. One thing she loved most though was the stars. They fascinated her, ‘cause they're just so far away, ya know? So my father, when he built this place, made this room just for her, for her books and maps and charts, so she could feel more like she was civilized and not out in the middle of nowhere. And this balcony was for her to watch the stars.” Octavius leaned back beside him, not watching the stars at all. He was enraptured by Jedediah's face, listening captivated as the man talked. “After I was born, well she started takin’ me up here, and we would do jus’ like we're doin’ now. She would tell me about the stars, their names, even the legends behind each constellation. She would tell me about her travels all over the world, her life in the city, just whatever. And when it was cold we would sit inside and she would read to me.” Jed turned his head, looking Octavius in the eye. He was surprised, yet at the same time not surprised at all, to see raw emotion and what looked like tears forming in the man's gorgeous blue eyes.

“She sounds wonderful, Jedediah,” he spoke quietly, earning a small smile in response.

“She was,” came the reply, almost too soft to hear. They lay in silence for seemingly endless moments, Octavius processing the information overload, and the amount of trust it would have taken Jedediah to even bring him to this special place, let alone tell him all that he had. His gaze was drawn back to the stars, wondering if somewhere out there Olivia was worried about him.

“I never knew my mother,” he said to the stars, not daring to look at Jed. He could feel the other man's stare boring into him, silently questioning and urging him on. “She died when I was barely one; there were some complications with my sister's birth.”

“I'm sorry, Oct. That's terrible. A kid needs his mother.” Octavius shrugged in response, still staring at the sky.

“Like I said, I never knew her. I've never known the difference. Besides, I had Liv.”

“Your sister?”

“Yes. We basically raised each other.”

“Why? What about your old man?” Octavius grimaced.

“He wasn't exactly parenting material, if you understand. Sure he was good the first few years, but when I was about six he started getting more and more distant, falling into drink and dispair. He never hurt us, physically anyway, but he never really supported us either. I think he sees us as reminders of what he lost.”

“That's- that's terrible!” Jedediah exclaimed. Octavius nodded in agreement.

“Indeed. But I don't necessarily blame him. He had to go through everyday being reminded of her, through us. Olivia was named after my mother, you see. It was his way of keeping her alive, but it also killed him inside. And me, well I've seen pictures of my mother and the resemblance is striking, barring gender of course. It hurt him to see such a disappointment bearing such likeness to the woman he loved. Really it was no fault of his.” He kept a nonchalant tone, but really he felt a huge weight pressing on him and simultaneously being lifted. It was freeing in a way, to be able to trust someone like that, but the conversation was also bringing up painful memories.

“Wait, he doesn't- you don't think you're a disappointment, do you?” Jed sounded shocked and slightly outraged, and Octavius had to battle not to look.

“I am, in his eyes. Being… different,” he couldn't say ‘gay,’ he just couldn't, “as I am, and not choosing a ‘practical’ career, or even joining the military like him.” He paused to consider. “Especially not joining the military like him. I'm about the biggest disappointment of a son possible. At least Liv did something practical.” He snorted at himself, loathing the self-pity he had fallen into.

“What does your sister do?”

“She's in medical school right now, although personally I think she should have been an artist. She certainly has the talent for it.” Octavius sighed heavily, wishing that Liv were with him (maybe not at that exact moment, but still).

“And… what do you want to do?” Jed asked hesitantly, as though afraid of making Octavius back off.

“I'm- well, I'm a writer, honestly.”

“Yeah, that seems like somethin’ you'd do,” the blonde chuckled.

“I guess so. I really enjoy it, mostly. Except when the writer's block takes hold. It gives me some sort of control, I guess you could say. But my father still disapproves, no matter how good I am. It's a ‘fanatical pipe dream’ in his eyes. No matter what I do, he's never pleased.” Octavius shut his eyes, letting out another heavy sigh. His eyes shot open again in shock when he felt Jedediah's warm hand settle over his own.

“I'm sorry, Oct. Ain't nobody deserve that, ‘specially not you.” Octavius rolled his head to the side, looking at Jedediah again as the other man squeezed his hand gently. Timidly, Octavius turned his hand over, thoroughly shocked when Jedediah twined their fingers together.

“Jedediah,” he whispered, the word echoing loudly in the small space between them. They were close enough that he could feel Jed's breath warm against his face, could see individual strands of golden hair that had fallen in his eyes, shining silver in the moonlight.

“Do ya ever think about other universes?” he asked quietly, eyes never straying from Octavius’s. “Just… that maybe there's somewhere out there where a man can just, I dunno, be himself, without bein’ mocked an’ ridiculed an’ hated for it? “

If only you knew, he thought to himself, but only nodded in response.

“Jus’ think. Somewhere out there's a world where I can just-” as he spoke, Jedediah's other hand rose to hover above Octavius’s face, fighting to do something before finally clenching in a fist and falling back to Jed's side. “Aww never mind it. Pipe dreams, right Spark?”

“Right,” Octavius replied, trying desperately to keep his voice even despite his rapidly beating heart.

“Octavius,” the blonde said, seeming to be testing out the feel of the name, giving a small smile and a sigh. “What's a pretty face and a fancy name doin’ way out here? Ain't no place for you, not really.” Octavius was cursing the clear skies now, sure that his red face was plain to see.

“I don't- I don't know, actually,” he replied honestly, because he didn't know. He didn't know why he was there or how, but he wasn't exactly complaining at the moment.

Jedediah grinned at him. “Well whatever. Doesn't really matter does it?” They lay in silence, hands clasped and staring at each other, and Octavius couldn't tell what was happening exactly, but it felt right. Finally it was Jed who broke the silence. “Ya know, I just gotta ask.”

“Yes?”

“What the heck is with your name anyway?” Octavius couldn't help but laugh.

“My mother loved ancient history. My father is in the military. Who better to name your son after than the greatest general of the Roman Empire?” Jedediah began laughing with him, a truly joyous sound in Octavius’s mind 

“Ya got a point there, I guess,” the blonde admitted, looking back to the stars. Octavius watched his profile for a few minutes more, processing what was happening, his world spinning down to the rooftop observatory and Jedediah's hand clasped around his own.

Of course, it couldn't last forever.

“Jed!” a voice called up from the ground. The man in question frowned, releasing Octavius’s hand and sitting up. Octavius followed suit, looking down to see a small figure standing below.

“What is it, Josh?” Jed called back curiously.

“Mouse!” came the urgent reply, and Josh ran off out of sight. Jed's expression turned deadly serious and he cursed under his breath before standing up carefully.

“What's mouse?” Octavius questioned, confused. Jed stretched a hand down to help him stand up.

“Not what. Mouse is one a our mares, an’ she's gone into labor.” Ah. Now he understood. With no more words, they both rushed back down stairs, making sure to shut the observatory door behind them. When they got outside he let Jed take the lead, following the rancher not to the horse barn but to a different, smaller one. It only had two stalls, one of which was occupied by a light tan mare lying on her side in the hay, her belly swollen. She was surrounded by Josh, Pete, Michael, and Jason, all of whom turned to Jedediah as soon as he approached. Jason knelt by her head, stroking her soothingly while Michael did the same with her shuddering flank.

“Josh, go to the house an’ get some water, quick,” Jed demanded, taking control over the situation. “Pete, ride ta town, get Doc Richings out here.” The man nodded, entirely complacent for once, moving to do as told. “Oct, here,” Jed grabbed something off a nearby shelf, “tape her tail.” Octavius knelt, shakily doing as he was told. From the corner of his eye he noticed Jed whisper something to Michael, nodding in the direction of Jason. Michael nodded and moved to the other man's side, saying something that Octavius couldn't quite catch and laying a gentle hand on his back. Jason stood, allowing himself to be led out of the barn, Michael's hand never leaving his back.

“What was that about?” Octavius questioned, going back to his work. Jed sighed, taking Michael’s place at Mouse's side.

“Mouse is Jason's horse, normally. He raised her up an’ everything. This is her first foal, and he's real worried is all. If anyone can calm ‘im down, it's Mike.” Just then, Josh came back with the water, killing conversation.

“Now what do we do?” he asked, leaning back in his heels and looking at Jed.

“Wait,” the other man replied simply, and the barn fell into silence except for the mare’s labored breathing. It was maybe fifteen minutes before a noise outside alerted them to Pete’s return. Sure enough, he walked in a minute later, a short man with graying brown hair, presumably Doc Richings, in tow.

Octavius stood, motioning to Jed that he was going to step outside. The blonde nodded before turning back to the problem at hand, and Octavius slipped out silently.

He breathed in the fresh night air, feeling rejuvenated and exhausted at the same time. It had been a long day and a long night, and he was just about ready for it to be over.

Octavius was drawn from his thoughts by voices nearby, barely audible from where he was. Frowning, he moved closer to the edge of the barn and was able to make out the voices more clearly.

“--what if she slips the foal? She could die, or the baby!”

“Jus’ relax. She ain't gonna slip, an’ nothin’s gonna happen to ‘em. She's perfectly healthy, you know that.”

“I- yeah I know,” the first voice replied in a quiet sigh. “I jus’ can't stand ta lose her. I raised her, an’ if somethin’ happened, well I'd feel like a damned failure.”

“You ain't a failure, Jase. Never.” A silence fell after that, leaving Octavius more confused than ever. Frowning, he leaned around the corner and thought his eyes might bulge out of his head at what he saw.

In the shadow of the barn, he could just barely make out the shape of Michael's tall form, arms wrapped around Jason, whose face was buried in the taller man's chest. It was… intimate, certainly not something he should be witnessing. Unfortunately for him, Michael chose that moment to look up and spotted him, embarrassment and rage crossing his features as his posture stiffened defensively.

“Go on, say it. Jus’ know that whatever you say I'll knock your teeth out for it, and what you saw ain't gonna be heard about by nobody,” Michael growled at him, causing Jason to look up and jump away.

Octavius held his hands up appeasingly. “Relax, it's fine. I won't say anything, I promise. Your secret is safe.” Both men stared at him warily.

“You promise?” Jason asked cautiously.

“Absolutely,” he assured them, watching as both men visibly relaxed.

“Good,” Michael said, reaching to grab Jason's hand. Octavius followed the movement, mildly jealous at the real affection in the gesture. Why couldn't he be like that with- okay better to not finish that thought.

“So you two are… together?” Sure, he was stating the obvious. Octavius had a tendency to do that, especially when he was nervous.

“Yeah,” Michael replied, buffing up slightly. “You got a problem with it?”

“No no, no,” Octavius shook his head. “That'd be a might hypocritical, don't you think?” It was the only way he could think of to assure the men that he wouldn't tell, and he waited for them to catch on. Suddenly, a grin spread across Jason’s face.

“I knew you were strange!” he exclaimed, and Octavius couldn't help but smile with him.

“So am I the only one who knows?” he questioned curiously, and the two men's faces burned red.

“No, uh. Jed- Jed knows too,” Michael said, avoiding his eye, and Octavius got the feeling there was quite the story behind that. He didn't get to ask, however, because the man in question appeared at that moment, grinning wildly.

“You boys wanna come inside for a minute?” he asked, turning to go back in the barn. Jason pushed past him, eagerly and anxiously headed inside, Michael right on his heels and Octavius bringing up the rear.

Everyone was standing around the stall, watching Mouse nuzzle the small foal. “Beautiful, ain't he?” Jed said quietly, coming to stand beside Octavius. The colt was the same dark cream color as his mother, with black socks on three feet and a white blaze. Octavius could only nod in response, finding Jedediah's hand and squeezing it lightly.

“He certainly--”His sentence was interrupted by a large yawn, which had Jedediah turning to look at him.

“Jeez, boy, you look exhausted. Why don't you go get some coffee, or better yet go to bed. It's been a long night.”

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Goodnight, Jedediah,” he said, squeezing the man's shoulder as he walked out of the barn. He got maybe ten feet from the entrance when a voice stopped him.

“I saw you.” Octavius turned around, seeing Pete leaning against the barn.

“Saw me what, Pete?” he said, too tired to deal with his nonsense at the moment.

“At the creek,” the other man replied, pushing away from the barn. “Saw you oglin’ the boss man. An’ in the barn jus’ now, the whole touchy thing.” Now Octavius was starting to get worried. “I know what you are, Toga-boy, an’ I don't like it.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied, a slight quiver in his voice. Pete took another step closer, snarling.

“You're a fuckin’ queer, an’ we ain't got no place for your kind here. ‘Specially not ones who got the hots for the boss man.” Octavius had heard plenty of slurs in his life, but hearing them from this disgusting man was only pissing him off.

“I have no clue what you think you saw, but you're obviously jealous for no reason.”

“Jealous?” Pete snarled, stepping even closer. Octavius smirked.

“But of course. Your intense homophobia is obviously born from fighting your inner longings. Perhaps it is not I who ‘has the hots’ for the boss man, as you say.”

“I ain't no queer, and I ain't gonna tolerate workin’ with one either.’ He was almost nose to nose with Octavius now. “You better get the hell outta here, an’ quick.”

“No.”

“Leave!”

“No.” The last thing Octavius saw was Pete's fist flying toward his face, then the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waiter! There's some plot in my angst!
> 
> We're getting close now, folks! No, not to the end, but to what you're all wanting.
> 
> For updates, follow my insta: @o.meg.alomaniac
> 
> Please keep reading!
> 
> P. S. Jed's French comes directly from Google Translate. I don't speak French.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out a little bit of what's REALLY going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus update! Not very long, nor what you really want to see, but it fit at the moment. Sorry for the suspense (but only a little).

He was late.

He was never late. In their entire lives, Liv had never known Octavius to be late. It was one thing if he was stuck in traffic; he would always call and let her know. And he never cancelled anything. That's one thing she had to hand to her big brother, he was dedicated.

Five minutes before their arranged meeting time, Liv had walked downstairs from her studio apartment above her friend's bistro and sat at the third white picnic table of the seven identical tables on the patio. They always sat at the same table, every time. Creatures of habit, they laughingly called themselves. Liv's friend Heather called them odd.  
***  
At their arranged time, Heather brought Liv her normal order, to which she gave a tight-lipped, distracted smile. Liv expected Octavius to be walking down the sidewalk any moment, was watching for him. She didn't see him anywhere.  
***  
Five minutes after their time, she sent him a series of concerned texts. Where are you? ... Did you oversleep? ... Octavius? Is everything okay?

They were never answered.  
***  
Ten minutes after their arranged time, his editor finally arrived. Jeff Daugherty was a tall man with graying black hair, a sharp nose, and absolutely no sense of punctuality. The man was constantly thinking about a thousand things at once and time was never a full concern for him. He was ultimately a kind man, though somewhat intimidating when you first met him.

He sat at the table, eyes on his shoes as he removed his tailored suit jacket, placing it over the back of the wicker chair so as to be more comfortable in the muggy heat of the city. He stretched his arms out, looking at the silver Rolex on his right wrist as he muttered, "I hope I'm not too late; Kristy was having me look over Litterson's new novel idea, see if it would sell. It's not her best work, but it has appeal. Something about a man who decides to-" he finally looked up, noticing the lack of a key member of their group, "-where's Octavius?"

"I don't know," Liv said worriedly. "He's never been late to anything before."

"Maybe he's sick?" Daugherty suggested, though he clearly didn't think so. Liv shook her head.

"No, he would have called." He shrugged.

"You know I like your brother, Liv, I do. But Octavius has been known to drink. Maybe he just had a little too much and is still sleeping it off."

"My brother is not a drunk, Mr. Daugherty," she defended as she glared at the editor angrily. He held up his hands appeasingly.

"I'm not saying he is. But he's been under a lot of stress, what with the new developments and all, and it's possible that he had too much without realizing. It happens to the best of us." Liv stood up quickly, a determined - albeit still worried - look in her eye.

"Well, come on then," she said when Daugherty just stared at her, "let's go find Octavius." He stood up slowly, wondering, briefly, if the woman had gone mad.

"Why must I come along, if I might ask?" Liv shot the man a quick glare.

"Because you are the one who wished to speak to him. Because you are his editor and he brings you profit. And because, after all this time, I should hope that you would consider him your friend." She turned, marching towards the man's silver Lexus, not waiting for him to follow, which he did, of course. The car chirped as he unlocked the doors, Liv sitting in the passenger seat with a huff.

"I do, you know," he said as he pulled away from the curb, drawing a quick glance from Liv. "See him as a friend," he clarified. "That's why I'm going. He certainly isn't my only client, so if it were just about profit I wouldn't be. But Octavius... He's nice, and a very talented writer."

Liv smiled softly. "You don't have to tell me this. I grew up with him, remember."

They were closer than most siblings. Growing up, they had moved frequently and really only had each other. Although she was younger, it felt like sometimes Liv were the big sister; so many times Octavius had confided in her, relied on her inner strength that he seemed to have less of. They looked out for each other, supported each other when no-one else would.

"Liv, please. You know I need you at these kinds of things." Octavius had called her around noon, telling her the news.

"Yeah, I know you do. But you do realize that one day I'm not going to be able to come, right? You're going to have to learn to be brave, Octavius."

"All he wants to do is meet so we can discuss a deadline. We can even do it at Heather's. Please, Olivia, it'll only take ten minutes, max." She rolled her eyes, smiling into her phone at her pleading brother. He was the only one she allowed to call her Olivia.

"Fine. Even though you are perfectly capable of handling this without me, I'll come."

"You know I'm nothing without you, Liv," he teased.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm your rock. What time should we meet up? Does one o'clock sound good?"

"It works for me. I'll just call Daugherty and tell him."

"Okay great. See you tomorrow."

"Thank you so much. Love you, sis."

"Shut up, Octopus," she laughed.

"Hey-!" His indignant response was cut off as she hung up on him. Her phone buzzed a minute later with a message:

I'll get you for that. She had typed a quick response.

No you won't.

That was the last she had heard from Octavius.

"Liv, look." Daugherty pulled to the curb outside of Octavius's apartment. "His car is still here."

"That doesn't mean he is," she replied, getting out of the car before the engine was even off. She ran to the door, twisting her spare key into the lock and shoving the door open. The whole place was dark, light creeping through the shades on the window. Liv made her way to Octavius's study, the place where he spent most of his time and the most likely place to find answers. The screensaver on his computer was swirling, casting faint rainbow light around the room, and papers were scattered over the desk.

"Is he normally this messy?" Daugherty asked suddenly, making Liv jump; she hadn't notice him enter. She sighed, flipping through some of the papers.

"Only in his study. Flip that switch, will you?" He complied quickly, throwing light over the room and making the mess seem that much worse. His eyes wandered around the room, coming to rest finally on the half-empty tumbler on the corner of the desk, and the two-thirds full bottle of whiskey beside it. Daugherty cleared his throat, glancing from Liv to the alcohol meaningfully. "Just because he drank doesn't mean he's washed out drunk, Mr. Daugherty," she growled, stalking past him and out the door.

Liv turned down the short hallway, headed to Octavius's bedroom, the door of which was hanging ajar. She shoved it open fully, her eyes landing immediately on the bed, or more accurately the prone form of her elder brother sprawled across it. She sighed, going to kneel beside him.

"Looks like you were wrong this time Liv. I'm sorry," Daugherty said from his place in the doorway. She glanced at his figure, silhouetted by the light from the hallway.

"It's not like him," she admitted quietly, eyes falling on Octavius once more. She brushed his dark hair back, its short length just barely long enough to fall on his forehead when it wasn't styled. She loved to tease him about his vanity towards his hair; he would always smirk and say that she was just jealous that she didn't have his "luscious chocolate curls" (sometimes it was annoying having an author for a brother). "Octavius. Come on, time to wake up. Octavius," she said, gently shaking his shoulder. Her brow furrowed when she didn't get a response, not even a groan. "Octavius. Get up." She shook him more firmly, and still nothing. Liv grabbed his wrist, checking his pulse; it was fluttering faintly, but also very rapid.

"What is it?"

"Call an ambulance, quick!" Liv exclaimed. Daugherty nodded, phone already in hand and number dialed. "Oh, Octavius," she said quietly. "What happened?"  
***  
The waiting area of the emergency room was surprisingly empty, with only a few other persons around. Liv sat in one of the hard plastic chairs, tapping her foot impatiently while she waited for the doctor to come out with news. Jeff Daugherty had left, not because he wanted to but because he had other clients; he had mentioned something about acting normal and not letting others know about Octavius's condition until they figured out what was wrong. Olivia sighed heavily, glancing again at the clock on the wall, the minute hand ticking by at an agonizing pace. It had been thirty minutes since they had arrived, the orderlies meeting them at the ambulance bay and taking the unconscious Octavius to the emergency room waiting for him, quickly followed by a doctor and a nurse. Liv had been waiting there ever since, and the tension was excrutiating.

Finally, at 2:32 (and twenty-four seconds, but who was counting), the doctor came out, clipboard in hand and serious expression on his face. His long white lab coat flapped around him, giving a displaced humorous air to the otherwise morose situation at hand. Liv stood to meet him, her hopes falling at the man's expression.

"Ms. Blake, I'm sorry to say it but I don't have good news." She nodded, silently signalling for him to continue; she didn't know if her voice would hold. "We ran blood tests; his blood alcohol level was 0.06." Liv let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. So Octavius HADN'T been plastered, just like she'd thought. "But," the doctor continued, "we found high levels of rohypnol, much more than we would normally find."

It took a minute to process what the doctor had said. "Wait. You're saying my brother was ROOFIED?"

"What I'm saying, Ms. Blake, is that someone tried to kill your brother. It's a good thing he got here when he did, or else they would have succeeded. As it is, he's in a coma and likely to remain that way for quite some time, if not the rest of his life."  
***  
"He's in a coma! ... What do I expect from you? I expect you to come down here, that's what! ... You can't be that heartless. ... You know what? Stay there. There's a special place in hell for people like you. Who knows, maybe the fires there will finally melt that heart of yours." Liv hung up the phone, the two men watching as she paced around her apartment angrily. One, Daugherty of course, watched her in confusion. The other, an older man, maybe in his forties with silvery blonde hair and wise green eyes, watched with quiet understanding. She sighed, carding fingers through her long light brown hair before turning once more. "Sorry you boys had to hear that. My father isn't the kindest of people, especially not when it comes to Octavius." Daugherty's eyes widened.

"Wait that was- you mean your father refuses to come check the well-being of his own son, whom he knows is in a coma?" Liv nodded.

"Daniel Blake is a real piece of work," the older man spoke up.

"You're certainly right there," she agreed. "It's great to see you again, Ryan, although I wish it were under better circumstances." Ryan nodded in agreement.

"So you guys know each other?" Daugherty asked. The other two nodded.

"I've known Liv and Octavius for years, and their father even longer. Those two became like my own."

"Especially after Octavius and Mark had their little fling in high school," Liv laughed. Daugherty continued to stare at them, astounded.

"Wait. Octavius is gay?" The other two turned to look at him.

"Yes he is, and he's one of the finest young men I've met. He and my son Mark dated for a while, which is when I learned of their father's negelectfulness." Ryan's tone was slightly defensive. Liv, however, was more understanding.

"I'm not surprised that he didn't tell you. It takes a lot for Octavius to trust people."

"Yes, well. I still have no idea why anyone would want to kill him. He's such a kind and harmless man, really. And a very talented author."

"That's why I'm here, son," Ryan said. 'Ryan' was actually Detective Ryan Haverford, NYPD. He had been in the department for fifteen years, been detective for nine, and was one of the best detectives on the force. "For some reason, someone wanted to kill our boy, and I'm going to figure out why."

"And more importantly," Liv said, "whom."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavi gets a little bit of a shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is short.... I was kind of stuck and you guys have been waiting, plus it actually has a decent stopping place. But the events make up for the length! Promise!

When Octavius woke, he had the disorienting feeling of not knowing where he was. It was dark and cool, much like outside had been, but the air seemed more still, and beneath him was not hard ground but a soft bed. For a moment he thought he might be back at home, and that it all had been a crazed alcohol induced dream, but he decided against that when he realized the cool damp cloth being pressed to his eye, where he could feel a bruise forming. He fought the urge to jerk away from the careful administration as he slowly opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the light filtering through the shades on the window. Sitting over him, and surprisingly the one holding the cloth, was Jedediah, who smiled broadly as he saw Octavius’s eyes open.

“Jedediah, what-” he started, attempting to sit up. He was stopped by the man's hand on his shoulder, gently forcing him back down.

“Woah, easy there, partner. Pete hit ya pretty good. You blacked out, an’ I ended up carryin’ ya in the house.” Jed was smiling, but his blue eyes were clouded over with worry. Through his explanation, Octavius felt the hand that lay heavy on his chest. His eyes widened in realization.

“You were there,” he said, panic edging his voice. “You heard. You heard everything.” Octavius tried backing away from the man, Jed's smile falling. “I should leave. I have to leave. I have to-”

“If you think I'm lettin’ you go anywhere right now, that hit musta knocked some screws loose,” Jedediah said, keeping a firm hold on the other man.

“But- but you heard,” Octavius stammered. Jed nodded.

“I heard,” he confirmed.

“So you know how messed up I am. You know I can't stay.” His voice shook, whether with anger, fear, or sadness he didn't know.

“What I know,” Jed began in response, “is that Pete is an asshole. I know that you didn't deserve none a that. And I know that you leaving is the absolute last thing I want ta happen.” The blonde gave a small, hopeful smile, though his eyes were still concerned. In the silence that followed, Octavius became aware of their close proximity, he laying on the bed (which he suddenly recognized as Jedediah’s) and Jed perched on the edge, hovering over him, the space between them ripe with electricity and tension and some strange incorporeal thing akin to longing. And it seemed that Jed was just as aware of it, but unafraid to face it, his eyes beginning to glint with mischief as he leaned ever so closer, full grin spreading on his face, closer, and closer, and-

A knock on the door had Jed in a quick retreat as Josie stuck her head in, both siblings seemingly entirely unaware that Octavius may have been going into cardiac arrest based on the rapid pounding against his rib cage. “Hey, Jed, how’s he- oh! You're awake!” she exclaimed upon seeing Octavius. She came fully into the room now, coming to stand beside the bed, glass of water in hand. “I brought ya some water. Say, how're you feelin’?” Her matronly worry was appreciated, but Octavius couldn't quite focus on her questions in the face of what had almost happened.

“Like I was punched in the face,” he replied, having regained his wits for the most part. She laughed, and Jed continued his ministrations, gently pressing the cloth to Octavius’s eye, grinning nonetheless.

“Well, I'd say you'll be just fine if ya already got the energy ta be snarky,” she said, retreating. “I'll let ya get a little more rest, though. Looks like Jed's got ya all taken care of.”

“Thanks, Josie,” Jed called after her just as the door shut. Silence fell again between the two men, this time awkward and tense, Octavius avoiding Jedediah's gaze. “Octavius. Octavius look at me.” Octavius persisted in not looking at him, despite the other man's earnest and slightly pleading tone. “Fine. Don't look. Jus’ listen. I don't give a damn what Pete said. I'd had just about enough a that man anyway. He's gone, got the boot. If you are, you are, if ya ain't, ya ain't, and I'm okay with that either way boy, don't you doubt it.

“I talked to Mike and Jase, yeah they saw it too. And lemme tell you, those two damn near snapped Pete's neck, and prob’ly woulda had I let ‘em. They uh. Well they told me about your short little conversation with ‘em, and I think you know by that that I honestly don't give a damn if you're inta fellas or not.” Octavius squeezed his eyes shut, as if closing them would block sound as efficiently as they were blocking the unforeseen tears that were rising.

“Pity the fool,” he mumbled quietly, turning his head to the side.

“Huh?”

Octavius’s eyes shot open then, fueled by a sudden unexpected surge of anger. “I said pity the fool, Jedediah. Pity the poor city boy unaccustomed to living on the edge of nowhere. Pity the pathetic little writer with daddy issues. Pity the poor gay fool who was stupid enough to-” he cut himself off, squeezing his eyes shut once more, attempting to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Pity the poor lost fool,” he finished quietly, his voice breaking. The cloth against his eye had vanished sometime during his outburst, but now he could feel Jed's hand hovering hesitantly, the way one can sense their proximity to objects in a dark room. It was that same sense, the acknowledgement of an object nearby, but not quite certain of the distance, the quiet energy of their selves bouncing off each other in a manner similar to echolocation, the only difference being the thick heavy silence that lay between them.

And then the energy was gone as a decision was made, Jed's hand coming to rest softly, gently on the side of Octavius’s face, fingers lightly caressing the edge of his new bruise before moving to brush his hair aside softly, sending lightning bolts flying across his skin that were felt deep in his core.

“Octavius, please. Please look at me,” Jedediah pleaded softly, a strange vulnerability apparent in his tone. With a deep, shuddering sigh, Octavius opened his eyes once more, timidly. Jed's brow was furrowed, eyes full of concern, but when Octavius opened his eyes another small smile formed. “There, that's better. Now jus’ listen. I don't want ya leavin’, not at all. And honestly, I'm kinda glad I heard what I did.”

“You can't be,” he replied almost inaudibly, unable to pull his eyes away. “I'm a freak, and that's all there is to it. What reason do you have to be glad about having a freak like me around?”

“What reason? Well that's simple.” Jedediah's hand came back to cup Octavius’s cheek and he leaned closer, as though imparting a valuable secret. “Now I can do this.” Everything froze as Octavius realized a moment too late what was happening, his heart beating rapidly and his thoughts halting the moment Jed's lips touched his softly.

The world around him was suspended in a hot limbo as lightning raced through Octavius’s body, every nerve ending aflame with need and, more apparent, a certain rightness about the whole thing. Octavius was warm, safe (for the moment) from disgusted glares and words, and had six feet of golden haired blue eyed perfect kissing him. He let his eyes close as his hands crept up, one cupping the side of Jed's face and the other resting on the junction of the man's neck and shoulder, almost mirroring the other man. The kiss was simultaneously hesitantly sweet and electrifyingly desperate, and Octavius was struck with the disbelief that Jed had actually kissed him.

Wait.

Jed had kissed him.

No, it wasn’t possible. Nonononono it couldn’t be. Jed was STRAIGHT. This wasn’t happening, couldn’t be happening, WHAT THE HELL WAS HAPPENING?!

Slightly panicked now, Octavius pushed away, his labored breathing drawing concern into Jed’s crystalline eyes. “Tavius?” Jed said, a new name springing from his tongue that seemed to hold a new fondness within it.

“No,” Octavius murmured, not hearing the other man. He began pushing himself into a sitting position, his back bumping the wall as he scrambled underneath the blonde. “Nonono. This can't- no, I have to- I have to leave.” Octavius was somewhere else entirely, not even seeing Jedediah or the concern in his gaze.

“Tavius, what's the matter with you?” Jed asked softly. “C’mon, boy, lemme help you. Jus’ tell me what's wrong.”

Octavius seemed to focus for a moment. “You- you're not- I- Jedediah-” Jed's hand rose again as if to stroke his face, but Octavius flinched away from it; Jed let it fall dejectedly back on the bed.

“I'm not what?”

“You- you’re- Jedediah you’re straight!” Octavius was in a frenzy once more, throwing the blanket off him and swinging his legs off the side of the bed, narrowly avoiding Jed. “God, I’m such a freak! I never should have- I should have left immediately. And now you- I can’t believe I- This has to be a joke, a sick, cosmic joke.” He was pacing the room now, pent up energy boiling over inside him. “He can’t be queer! There’s no way, it isn’t possible.” He was talking to himself at this point, not even aware of Jedediah’s presence in the room. “And if- no he’s not. But if he was then why me? Why the messed up psycho? God, you really are crazy. You’re a fucking freak, Octavius. You’re so messed up that- fucking pathetic, that’s what you are. Fucking dream or whatever the hell and you still manage to fuck things up. Fucking worthless.” Octavius’s panicked comments turned snidely and bitterly inward, scouring himself with foul words that left Jedediah shocked.

“Octavius…” Jed said, breaking the man's concentrated rage and drawing frantic eyes to him. “Octavius, where's all this comin’ from?” 

Octavius’s breathing was rapid, his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage. He distantly realized that he was shaking. Suddenly his limbs weighed a hundred pounds, dragging him to the ground as he slumped against the wall, defeated. He barely registered Jedediah crouching next to him, choosing to bury his head into his hands instead of facing the cowboy.

“Octavius, I want you to listen to me,” Jedediah said softly from beside him. “Whatever you've been through, whatever people have called you, whatever that bastard father a yours has said, you need ta know that none of it is true. None, ya hear me? You ain't a freak, you ain't pathetic, an’ you sure as hell ain't worthless.”

“Please…” he breathed out shakily, “please, just- just leave me alone. Just for a while.” He didn't want Jed to see him like this, hated that the man had to. Octavius felt Jed's hand settle on his shoulder and stiffened, fighting the instinct to pull away.

“Alright, partner. Whatever ya say. But I'll be back, don't you think I won't.” The hand lifted and there was a rustle of clothing as Jed stood, followed by the man's footsteps and the sound of a door closing as he left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to be quicker with this next one... (We've all heard that line before...)
> 
> For updates follow my Instagram @o.meg.alomanic (I'm like the only person who posts anything Jedtavius, and that makes me sad...)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of what happened in Jed's room. Angst alert.

The day it happened he locked himself in his room, not seeing or speaking to anyone after venturing back to the bunkhouse and upstairs, carefully avoiding all life forms. He laid on the bed staring into space and thinking about homeJedeverythingnothingwhat'shappening until he finally drifted off into a fitful sleep where he dreamed that Liv was sitting beside him, but he couldn't see her. Occasionally there was a knock on the door that stirred him, Josie or Drexel or Jason and one time even Jedediah asking how he was. He ignored them all and drifted back to sleep.

The day after he ventured out of his room for food and the bathroom only. He kept his head down, ignored the strange looks he got from the men, ignored the pain in his chest when he walked into the kitchen and Jedediah was there, staring at him hopefully. Turned his head aside and ignored the clenching in his gut as he sensed despair rush through the blonde at the blatant refusal of acknowledgment. Ignored it all and went back to his room to sleep some more.

Three days later he managed to stay out of his room the whole day. He didn't talk much, though. A lot of time he spent with Josie, whom he did talk to a little, or on the back porch with the lazy yellow dog ( he finally learned its name from Josh - Hatie). Once he ventured out to the barn to check on the newborn. Of course he found Jason out there, so he turned around pretty quickly.

Two days after that Lassiter returned, rabble of men in tow. Octavius watched from the window as Jed and the other hands approached them, not getting involved. Lassiter and his men turned away, leaving reluctantly. As he turned to return to work, Jedediah caught his eye through the window. He backed away, ignoring the wistful look on the blonde’s face.

He was a ghost around the ranch, a phantom locked away in a self induced exile. He wanted so badly to leave, to go home, to find a way out, but every time his thoughts traveled back to his New York apartment another part of his brain would start dwelling on Jedediah: his hair, his laugh, the way his eyes sparkled, the burning feel of his lips pressed against Octavius’s….

Who was he kidding? He couldn't leave, even if he knew how. If somehow he found a way to wake himself up and return to his normal life, he wouldn't be able to. There was a reason Octavius was stuck here, and part of him believed it to be Jedediah. But what was he doing? Locking himself away, causing only misery to himself and the man he was inexplicably in love with. Octavius wanted to be here, on the ranch. He wasn't trapped except by himself.

But…. At the same time he couldn't just accept what had happened. Jed had kissed him. Jedediah. Kissed him. Jedediah, his heterosexual cowboy protagonist. Things like that didn't just happen! Admittedly the whole situation itself was unnatural and ‘didn't just happen’, but characters didn't just rewrite who they were! Finally tired of carrying the weight of his thoughts around, Octavius decided that he did, in fact, need a drink. A lot of them actually.

He cut across the yard quickly, from the bunk house to the farm house, hoping to avoid being seen or talked to. Luck was on his side; the farm seemed abandoned even though the entire population - less two - had been gathered out front not even half an hour ago.

The key was in the same place it had been the first time. Apparently Jed hadn't moved it after Octavius's first raid. This time he decided to forgo the glass; it was a from the bottle situation. After his third sip - more accurately a gulp but he would never admit as much - Octavius realized that if he remained in the living room as he had before he was sure to be discovered, which was the last thing he wanted. He didn't want anyone, especially not Jedediah, to see him.

He looked around from his spot perched on the couch. Late afternoon light filtered through the window, illuminating the dust motes floating through the air. In the living room anyone was likely to walk in on him. Octavius needed to go somewhere that no-one was going to walk in on him.

He had just the place in his fuzzed mind.

***

The dim electric light cast streams of gold throughout the room, landing on gold leaf book covers and trailing away. The pinpricks on charts indicating stars blended together and rearranged themselves before his eyes in a mesmerizing dance.

Life was so much more beautiful when one was drunk.

That was the thought that permeated Octavius’s mind when the bottle was half empty. He sat on the floor in front of the desk, surrounded by a few books he had taken off the shelf and some charts he had taken from the desk.

One of the books he had was the French copy of Around the World in 80 Days. He couldn't read it, but he enjoyed the feel of the leather beneath his hands, watching the red and gold swirl together. The French words looked elegant and nonsensical, nice to look at although somewhat nauseating. Inside it held inked engravings depicting the wild adventures of Phileas Fogg and Passepartout. Looking at them, Octavius felt a sort of kinship. He too was on a wild adventure in unknown lands, but he was alone.

And drunk. Two minutes later any thoughts of shared adventure vanished as his attention was drawn back to the star charts. They made him want to go out on the roof, back to the night with Jed on the observatory. He wanted to go back to that night, watch the stars, hold Jed’s hand, maybe have enough alcohol in his system to kiss him. Hell, he’d settle with watching the stars by himself, but it wasn't even dark yet. At least, he thought it wasn't. Octavius wasn't sure how long he’d been upstairs, if it was night yet or still just evening.

He stood up unsteadily, using the desk to hold himself up as the books clattered to the floor. The floor spun beneath him as he slowly made his way to the wall, choking down the dizzying nausea. It took him an eternity to cross the floor, or so it seemed, and he rested heavily against the wall, waiting for the world to right itself.

“Thought you could handle your liquor,” a voice said from the area of the doorway. Octavius raised his head in that direction, squinting until the blurry figure standing there arranged itself into the shape of Jedediah.

Shit.

“‘Smatter ofact I can,” he slurred in response. “Jus’ dint wanto. Whatreyou doin here?”

“As a matter of fact,” Jed began, echoing Octavius's attempt at the words, “this happens to be my house. And my liquor you're drinkin’. And in any case, Josie saw you headed up the steps.”

Shit. He’d forgotten about Josie. The woman hardly left the house, of course she would have been around.

“She fancies you, ya know,” Jed continued. The words puzzled Octavius, who gave Jed a quizzical look. “Oh yeah. She likes you alright. Been worried about you all week. And you shoulda heard her when you were passed out. Askin’ how ya were every five minutes.” He paused, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. “Poor girl, don't know she ain't gotta chance. But she's lucky,” another pause, locking gazes with Octavius. “At least she can show her concern without bein’ questioned.” He didn't know what made him do it (most likely the alcohol), but Octavius began a slow walk (stumble) across the room to the blond.

“Dint-” Octavius's speech was interrupted intermittently by hiccups, “dint ask ‘nyone to care *hic* bout my state of fmind.” He was halfway across the floor now. “Hell, I dint even ask *hic* t’be here.” He reached Jedediah, and collapsed from the exertion. Jed caught him on reflex, worry crossing his face. “I jus *hic* jus woke up out there.” A drunk smile spread across his expression. He reached a hand up to touch Jedediah's face. “Woke up an there you were. Thought I was drunk. You're jusso pretty yaknow.”

“Yup,” Jed agreed, sinking down to the floor so Octavius could lay in his lap. “I'm pretty, and you are definitely drunk.” He absently began stroking Octavius's hair, watching him half concerned and half amused.

“Yesser I am,” Octavius responded. “Les go ousside, Jedediah. S’nice ousside. Les go look at th’stars.”

“I don't think that’d be such a good idea, Spark,” he replied. A confused pout crossed over Octavius's face as he tried to process the words.

“Wha- why not?” he muttered, brow furrowed as he tried to sit up. Jed kept a hand firmly on his shoulder, keeping him down.

“Well for one,” the blond began, “the stars ain't even out yet. It just barely started ta get dark. And for two-”

“Oh well that makes sense then,” Octavius interrupted, stopping his struggle to sit up and rearranging himself in Jedediah's lap.

“It sure does,” Jed continued bemusedly. “And as I was sayin’, for two you're so drunk right now Spark I'd be afraid ta have you out on the roof for fear you might fall off.” Octavius looked up at him, grinning.

“You're so nice, Jedediah. Nice an pretty.” He closed his eyes again, letting the silence slip comfortably around them as Jed stroked his hair absently. A thought sprung up in his mind, however, and being in the state he was he just had to ask it.

“Jedediah?”

“Yeah, Tavius?” Jed glanced down at the man in his lap, catching the beautiful chocolate eyes.

“Why’d you leave me alone for so long?” The blond smiled slightly at the question and Octavius’s endearing tone.

“‘Cause you asked me to.” Octavius frowned, trying to remember. Finally he gave up fighting the alcohol for his memories.

“Well that wasstupid of fme,” he muttered, drawing a small chuckle from Jed. “Was too long without seein’ you. Was a…. a… a week too long, misser Smith.” Jedediah laughed outright.

“Ya know, I did try ta talk to ya, Spark.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I did,” he continued. “You just don't remember right now ‘cause you're so drunk.” Octavius thought for a minute, then nodded in concession.

“You're prob’ly right. Sounds slike me.” Jedediah gave another small laugh.

“Boy I bet you don't even remember why you wanted me ta stay away, do ya?” Octavius shook his head.

“N-no I remember that,” he insisted. Jedediah arched an eyebrow.

“Do ya now?” Octavius nodded enthusiastically, but stopped fairly quickly as the room spun wildly.

“Yup. It was b’cause you kissedme. Pretty Jedediah kissedme and it was fucking amazing. You're such a good kisser ya know? I jus- I think maybe you should do itagain.”

“I think maybe I shouldn't, Tavius. I ain't gonna take advantage of you when you're drunk. And besides that, you freaked out last time I did.” Jed watched as Octavius’s face transformed into a pout.

“Doessnt mean I dint like it,” he insisted, “or that I didn't want it.” Jedediah said nothing, mulling something over in his mind.

“Tavius?”

“Hmm?”

“If you liked it,” he began tentatively, “why’d ya freak out?” Octavius hummed to himself before answering.

“Cause you're not gay,” he said finally. “Least, you're not sposed to be.”

“What the devil makes you say that?” the blond asked, confused.

“Because you're straight,” Octavius insisted, turning to bury his face in Jed’s shirt. Jed sighed, trying again.

“Why are you so sure about that, Tavius?” Octavius turned to look up at Jedediah, watching him intently for the answer. He muttered slightly, forcing himself to slowly sit up. Jed allowed it, throwing his arm over the other man's shoulder, letting Octavius rest his head against his shoulder. He let out a sleepy sigh before finally answering.

“Because that's how I wrote you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again everyone. Here it is, the chapter you've all been waiting for.... A Year too late xo. I sincerely apologize for making you all wait so long. Originally I had just gotten stuck with writer's block, but life got in the way shortly after that and I became too depressed to write... Or read... Or do anything really. Then life got a bit better, and just as I was about to start writing again, Senior Year hits and it's all 5 page essays analysing poems and novels and college applications. Then the added stress of moving out away from my asshole parents. Anyway I'm sorry you guys waited so long for my shit to get in order, I hope you enjoyed the chapter (however short it must be).

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to get the accents right, but I'm from Oklahoma where the accents aren't normally that pronounced. Ok, sorry. Let me know what you think!


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